I Said Don't!
by chocolatebearturk
Summary: Jane has a meltdown, at long, long last.
1. Me and the Rain

_I Said Don't!_

a/n: I recently bought the movie 27 Dresses—I love Katherine Heigl—and I felt like the movie was missing a little something. This scene takes place in the car—right after they got stuck in the mud and right before they found the bar. I thought that Jane really needed a moment to flip out on someone and express her frustration. So here it is.

_Dedication: To my mom, for buying me the movie and letting me have my life back. Unfortunately, due to language, she can NEVER read this. Ever._

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For once, Kevin's mouth had failed him. The man with all the words had nothing—repeat, NOTHING—to say. It didn't stop him from _trying_, though.

"Uh…"

"I said don't!"

And so he closed his lips and waited.

The sad fact was, he hated silence. And minus the pounding rain and Jane's labored breathing, this was as silent as silent could get. He let his eyes rove over the interior of the car and he noticed for the first time how spotless it was for her _father's_ Volvo. A sudden idea struck him and it took all of his effort not to snort as he realized that she had probably made time in her already insane schedule to clean her father's care—for George. That thought killed his mirth as quickly as it had come. What did she see in that—okay, so he could understand her feelings. George was a great guy. But she was still crazy.

A sound that wasn't rain brought his attention back to the woman behind the wheel. She was groaning the long, drawn-out groan of one who had a lifetime of bad days to compare to, slumping in the driver's seat until her forehead connected with the steering wheel. A strangled whine started in her throat, only to be cut off abruptly as she sat up and started scrubbing at her eyes. Damnit, he never wanted her to cry.

"Jane…" he said quietly.

"What?" she said, more calmly than he would have expected. "What the _FUCK_ could you possibly want now?!" Ah. There we go.

"I didn't—" Kevin began.

"Didn't what, _Malcolm_?" she yelled. "Didn't think you'd hit the nail so squarely on the fucking head? Didn't think you'd drive me to fucking tears? Well, guess-_FUCKING_-what!"

She ran her fingers under her eyes again to catch the salty drops, laughing bitterly.

"_Please_, Jane. I—"

"You WHAT? You want me to admit it?"

Kevin paled. "N-no, Jane, I don't—"

"I am in FUCKING love with my FUCKING sister's FUCKING fiancé," she screamed for the whole world to hear. Kevin winced as though he'd been struck. "I'm in FUCKING love with my FUCKING boss!"

"Jane—"

"I have been five FUCKING minutes from hanging myself with Gatsby's FUCKING leash ever since they FUCKING saw each other at Gina's _FUCKING_ engagement party. I. AM. ROYALLY. _**FUCKED**_."

There was silence for a long, tense moment.

"Gatsby?"

"George's dog."

"Ah."

More silence.

"Gina?"

"A friend from work."

"Another dress for your collection?"

"The gothic one with the spiked collar."

"Oh, I remember now."

Jane laughed and then groaned. "God," she called out, "if you're out there, you could work up your smiting finger for me. Any time between now and two months ago would be great."

"Two months ago?"

"When I brought Tess home from the airport—you should remember, you met me the night before. And came to the engagement party."

"Wait, whoa, I witnessed the start of this travesty?"

"Travesty?" Jane asked. She swiveled in her seat to stare at him in disbelief. Even he, the marriage-hater, had to think it was the "perfect match" like everyone else. After all, with the image the two of them put off—

Kevin snorted. "When you've covered as many weddings as I have, you see all sorts of disasters waiting to happen. This is one of the most horrible tricks of fate I've ever seen. Your sister is a world class bi—"

"Hey!" Jane said, smiling in spite of herself. "She _is_ my sister, you know."

And yet more silence.

Jane sniffed and wiped at her face, sitting up straighter in her seat. She cleared her throat and straightened her hair, adjusting her jacket as she looked in the rearview mirror. Kevin just stared.

"You _do_ realize that you are stuck in a 1993-model Volvo in the middle of a thunderstorm, right? There's no George to impress here—just me and the rain," he said.

She snapped a glare in his direction, unable to tell that he was joking (mostly). "A girl occasionally likes to feel better than she looks, _ass_." After wasting another moment to impress the Stink Eye on him, she opened her door and got out of the car.

Kevin immediately followed, watching as she lost first one shoe and then the other to the mud. "What are you _doing_? Are you crazy?!"

"There's a bar up the road," she yelled back, barely bothering to turn around. "They'll have a phone."

He couldn't argue that logic—or the alcohol that would follow.

* * *

I'm not sure if this can go anywhere else... I may try to find other spots in the movie that need fixing, but I think this is it. :)

I actually had a lot of fun with this. It was nice to let my inner bitch out.

Love, love, and love again!  
Babs


	2. Undue Stress

**Scene Two: Undue Stress**

"So, what, did you get some kind of sick pleasure out of making me break down like that?" Jane asked. She took a swig of her drink. "Or were you just paying me back in kind?"

Kevin nearly choked on his scotch as he reeled back to look at her. He gaped in disbelief. "Are you really going to do this? Are you going to waste an entire night wallowing in self-pity? Because I would think that you'd had enough of letting those feelings fester in your stomach. I'm surprised you don't have an ulcer."

Jane winced and turned away, determined not to meet his eyes.

"Oh, sweet Jesus, the woman has an ulcer!" Kevin exclaimed to himself. He lifted his arms in the air, a gesture that could have been of defeat or victory—he wasn't quite sure himself.

"_Did_," Jane corrected, reaching out and bringing one of his arms down, embarrassed by his gesture. "I _did_ have an ulcer. It fixed itself up okay, though. And I've got the meds now. It won't happen again… so long as I don't subject myself to undue stress."

"And what do you consider 'undue stress,' Jane? The _second coming_?" He glanced around the bar and leaned in close to her. "You're planning this _farce_ of a marriage between your sister and the guy you're in love with and you don't consider that undue stress?"

Jane looked him right in the eye and told him no before bursting into hysterical, crazed laughter. He could only stare and wait for her to sober up, slightly fearful that he had actually caused her to snap. When she finally finished laughing, she fixed him with one of those looks that he was becoming more and more familiar with. "I told you; I'm Jesus. This is nothing. You haven't planned three shotgun weddings within a month, talked two caterers into serving the same reception and personally tied three hundred and fifty-seven perfect bows on invitations."

"Ha, very funny," Kevin said. "I know very well what it's like to watch the love of my life walk away with someone else. And while that's painful enough in itself, what kind of sick freak—_you_—would willingly sign up for the personal hell that is planning their _wedding_?"

The woman shrugged and took another swig of her drink. "I guess, like some sick freak, I just want him to be happy. And if my baby sister makes him happy, and if he makes her happy, isn't that more important?"

"Yeah, but what about you?" Kevin asked. He took her glass away from her and stared into her eyes, incredulous at her overpowering selflessness. "Don't you deserve some happiness? I mean, you're making a pretty big sacrifice. And they'll never even know it."

"Nobody notices when you do something good," Jane said. It was mechanical, as though she said this too often to too many people. "But everyone's paying attention when you mess up. I'd rather do good unnoticed than be known for my mistakes, I guess." She took her drink back and took a long drag, grimacing a little as it burned her throat. But the warmth that flooded her stomach was the best feeling she'd had all day. She signaled the bartender to bring her another of whatever she'd just been drinking.

Kevin raised his eyebrows. "I thought you were just going to have one drink?"

"I'm living in my own personal hell, remember?" she said sarcastically. When the glass came back, filled with liquid courage, she took a swig and smiled at him. "Let's talk about something else. Like your column! Let's start with that."

"Go ahead," Kevin said, smirking a little at her unsubtle subject change.

"July the 17th, 2005."

His eyebrows went up. "You've got the dates memorized?"

"You don't? I would remember it if I was put in print," Jane told him. "Come on, you should know this."

"Uh… was that the Rutger wedding?"

And so started the game. Jane was surprised that he knew so little about his own work, but then he'd written about a wedding every two weeks for the past five years. He'd been to more than she had ever thought to attend. (And did you think she'd only been to twenty-seven weddings? Psh! Those were just the ones where she was a part of the wedding _party_.)

With every article she mentioned, the more cynical he became. And, remarkably, the more they drank, the more forgetful he seemed. Or maybe he was digging for her opinions. By the time they were on his fourth scotch and her third whatever-it-was (she could never remember what it was called, only what was in it, and even that evaded her at the moment), he was pretending he had no clue what she was talking about.

"Okay," she said, choking a little on the word. "February 12th, 2006."

The Keller wedding. He _had_ to remember that one.

* * *

:D I just had to do it. I thought that after her meltdown in the car, she needed some redemption.

Most of these will not be in chronological order, just so you know. These just happened to be in order out of random chance.

And yes, that means there's more. Even though I've labeled it complete. :P

Much love!  
Babs


End file.
